It's The Kid's Turn
by AnMXD
Summary: Spencer Reid still feels the loss of Maeve six months after her death. But can a new, young SSA hired to fill Blake's shoes change that? Like Morgan said, it's time for a fresh start. Is it finally The Kid's turn to find happiness?
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Spencer Reid wakes sharply at 5:00am that morning, as he does any other. He starts off his day with a cup of hot tea (extra honey) and a good book; although, to him, any book is fascinating and enriching. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not until he's shuffling papers around on his desk, looking for a report he'd been working on the night before, does this seemingly normal morning become an anomaly.

Subconsciously, he glances over his left shoulder, and his eyes land on something they haven't in a while. An off-white book spine, peaking out from the others along the long row of book after book, one blending into another. He stops his rummaging and stands tall, eyeing it curiously. The cogs in his head whirr furiously, debating whether or not he dare touch it. Finally, curiosity gets the best of him, and his long, pale fingers flick the book off the shelf and into his hands. He knows this is something he _shouldn't_ be doing, Morgan had told him that. He justified this exclusive glance to himself for the simple fact that it was the six month anniversary of the day she had died.

He shakily walks over and takes a seat on the couch, his palm running over the smooth front cover of the book. He doesn't look at it for a good minute, the side of him that has sense waging a war with the side that still wants to keep her memory alive. Suddenly, as if he'd been shocked into action, he flicks the front cover open and stares hungrily down at the words written so neatly, so matter-of-factly, so lovingly. He knows that doesn't make sense, because logically, words cannot be written with love. Yet, somehow he knows that these ones were.

_"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it with another."_

He does not allow himself to cry. That time is over. He silently runs his index finger over the words, feeling the impression the pen made in the paper. He sits like this for what seems like a year, reliving everything he was told he shouldn't. Mostly, he remembers her voice, for that's all he had of her for months. When he does think of her appearance, it's distorted and warped into something unpleasant, the memory of finally seeing her tainted with another memory from the same night.

_No,_ he suddenly thinks. _I can't be doing this to myself. It's time to move on. You can't keep living like this. It's time for a fresh start._

He stands with finality, striding over and replacing the book on the shelf. He stares at the spine again, as if trying to understand the nature of it, although he well knows it's just a book. Will it disappear if he looks away too quickly?

_Morgan is right,_ his conscious speaks again. _It really is time to move on._

Suddenly, his cell phone buzzes from the counter. As he picks it up, he notices the time and is horrified by his tardiness. He runs over to his desk to retrieve his report once again, shoving it hastily into his bag before running out the door and into the elevator. There, he reads the message that originally alerted him. It was from Garcia:

**Remember all, don't be late. We have our new SSA in today, so don't forget your extra dose of sweetness and patience this morning.**

Reid sighs, hitting the button for the ground level, his heart sinking as he remembers a few weeks prior when Blake told the team she couldn't juggle both jobs anymore, and was permanently moving to work at Harvard with her husband. Since then, Hotch had been working day and night to finding someone to fill the open position, not necessarily Blake's role, but just to fill the hole she had left. No luck on finding another Linguistics Expert, so he settled for sending Rossi to the FBI Academy, with the logic that they could use some fresh eyes. Someone who hadn't seen all the rest had seen, someone with some shred of innocence left. Apparently, that person had been found.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"There he is," Morgan's deep voice sounds across the office. "Where've you been, kid?"

"Sorry," Reid mutters, throwing his bag onto his seat at his desk, hastily unwrapping his scarf. "Got, umm, sidetracked this morning."

"Doing what?"

"I spilled my coffee," he lies quickly. "Everywhere."

"I thought you were trying to steer clear of coffee?" Morgan asks, raising an eyebrow. "You said it made your headaches worse."

"Did I say coffee?" Reid replies with an uncomfortable laugh. "I meant tea."

Morgan gives him an unimpressed look.

"Take it or leave it," Reid says, shrugging and walking past him to the conference room.

"Hey, woah, I wouldn't go in there yet," Morgan warns.

"What's going on?"

"I guess Hotch is trying to prep for the rookie," he explains, sauntering over to his desk and picking up a file.

"_The rookie?_" Reid repeats, a note of uneasiness in his voice. "We still don't know who it is?"

"I guess they wanted it to be a surprise… or something," Morgan replies. "Rossi knows, but I've asked him several times and he won't leak anything."

"Of course he would," Reid states matter-of-factly. "He picked this person out."

"Right," Morgan agrees, his focus shifting to the doors as they swing open and JJ appears. "Hey Blondie, rough morning?"

"Traffic, Derek, traffic," she sighs, sounding ruffled. She takes her seat at her desk, immediately starting up her computer and pulling paper work.

"Not to interrupt you, but remember we have a conference this morning?"

She freezes, realization washing over her face. "Slipped my mind."

"Hello all," Garcia suddenly calls as she struts over, blue feathers sticking from her ponytail.

"Morning, Baby Girl," Morgan says, and she replies with a wink.

"They ready to call us in yet?" Garcia asks nervously. "I've had butterflies all morning, I just want to meet this person."

"Calm down, I'm sure they'll be fine," JJ says with a note of optimism in her voice. "Rossi chose for a reason."

"Are we all here?" Hotch suddenly calls from the conference room, drawing everyone's attention from each other.

"Rossi?" Morgan announces.

"He's in here with me," Hotch answers. When no one responds, he continues. "Well, let's get this started."

With that, everyone migrates to the conference room, taking their usual seats with the exception of Blake's empty chair. Reid painfully remembers the time when the chair was empty before, only this time had the void been left by Prentiss. He sits, folding his hands in his lap.

"Alright everyone, I'm sure you know why I've called you in today," Hotch starts. "Filling Alex's position wasn't easy, I'll tell you that. But, I think I finally found the person that will best fit this team. She-"

This catches everyone's attention. _She._

"-got excellent scores on her final assessment before graduating the academy, had an excellent interview with Dave, and proved herself in a little self-assessment of my own."

As if on cue, the door opens and new Section Chief Johnson stands, eyeing Hotch.

"Is she here?" Hotch asks, caught off guard.

"Early," Johnson replies, a note of sharpness in his voice. Maybe it was just the position, but it seems that Section Chiefs are not the nicest people.

"Send her in," Hotch says, sighing. Reid knew that he desperately wanted more time to prep the team than to just throw this newcomer headfirst into shark-infested waters. Nonetheless, the man steps back and reveals the mystery girl.

She stands at about five foot, five inches, a little shorter than average, Reid notes. Her light-gray work suit cinches at her waist, revealing a deep purple blouse underneath. At her neck, she wears a silver chain with a pendant that falls out of sight. Reid's eyes travel up a little further and he stops. For the first time in his life, he feels befuddled by beauty.

When he had first laid eyes on Maeve six months ago, she had already been this gorgeous being in his mind. Finally seeing her hadn't shocked him, for he'd been living for the past ten months with the knowledge that she was completely perfect. But this girl caught him by surprise. She was new, fresh, and something he wasn't expecting. It wasn't everyday you meet a young, intelligent, capable SSA such as her.

She was young, maybe a year or two younger than himself. She had a thin, pale face with full lips covered in a pink gloss. She had dazzling hazel eyes that peaked out from behind long, full lashes. Her hair was three different colors, which mesmerized Reid. It seemed her natural color was dark brown, but she'd dyed the majority of it with blonde highlights. Yet, since half of it was pulled up, you could see she had streaks of stunning auburn running through it. It was styled in loose curls, falling to her shoulders. Reid knew he was blushing.

"Everyone," Hotch says, interrupting Reid's thoughts. "This is SSA Ginessa James."

No one says anything, but continues to stare at this new alien creature. Reid clears his throat and straightens his cardigan, which draws her attention to him and makes him blush even more.

"Call me Ginny for short," she says, smiling and breaking the awkward silence. Still, no one responds.

"Ginessa, you can take a seat," Hotch says, motioning to Blake's old chair next to Rossi.

"Thank you," she replies courteously before sitting.

Hotch then launches into a speech addressed to the entire team concerning the newest addition. She sits silently, watching everything in amazement and awe. After about a half an hour, Hotch dismisses the team back to do desk work. Ginny hangs back, making small talk with Rossi while the rest of the team leaves to man their stations. Reid arrives at his desk and begins to unpack his things as she slinks out of the conference room, trying to be unnoticed. He watches her descend the stairs and start across the room. It's not until he realizes that she's headed his way that he finally tears his eyes from her and pretends to be minding his own business.

"Dr. Reid?" she suddenly questions, making him jump and turn around in his seat.

"Call me Spencer," he replies automatically, looking up to meet the stunning hazel eyes.

"Spencer," she corrects herself, with a small smile "I believe this is my desk?"

He looks to where she is pointing and suddenly remembers Blake had indeed been his desk-mate.

"Oh," he chuckles. "Yeah, that'd be yours. Home sweet desk."

This makes her break the reserved personality she'd had since she'd arrived, and she giggles. "Thank you."

She takes the seat opposite Reid, perfectly so he has a good look of her over his laptop. _Perfect,_ he thinks sarcastically. _How am I supposed to get any work done like this?_

He turns back to a report and works furiously for only a few minutes before there's another disturbance. He's distracted by the sound of glass breaking, and a sigh of embarrassment.

"Oh, my God, Spencer, I am _so _sorry," Ginny's voice calls, full of dread. He wheels around in his seat to see her standing at the edge of his desk with her arms full of files, her eyes embarrassed and remorseful. "I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz. I should've been more careful of where I was going."

Reid then looks at her feet and sees a broken picture frame on the floor, glass everywhere. He wheels over and picks up the broken frame, only to see Maeve's smiling face looking up at him, the only good picture he has of her. He'd gotten from her mother a few months after her death. Reid sighs and looks back up at Ginny.

"Don't worry about it, Ginessa," he says, getting up and retrieving a dust pan from the supply closet across the office.

"I'll get it for you," she offers, still sounding incredibly sorry for what she'd done. Reid honestly wasn't ruffled as long as the picture itself hadn't been defaced in any way, and it hadn't.

"No, it's fine," Reid responds, trying to give her a comforting smile. "Hotch needs those files."

She gives him a quizzical look. "How did you know-"

"People around here have learned not to question me anymore," he says with a sly expression.

"I'll take your word for it," she replies, and gives him a broad smile before continuing her way to Aaron's office. After cleaning up and tucking the frameless picture into his bag, Reid returns to work.

Business continues as usual. Hotch flits back and forth from his office and various cubicles around the building, Garcia comes and flirts with Derek at lunchtime, and JJ makes a call to check on Henry on her break, letting Reid have the phone to give his godson a quick hello. Some time later, maybe five or six hours, Reid is interrupted a final time that day.

"You can call me Ginny, you know."

"Excuse me?" Reid questions, looking up curiously from his report. He meets Ginny's eyes from across their desks. She shuffles some papers before speaking again.

"I said you don't have to call me Ginessa," she repeats. "Ginny is fine."

"Oh," Reid replies, smiling and blushing into his lap. "Okay then, Ginny."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Hello all! :*

I just HAD to. If you know me from _I Love You More Than Myself_, you probably want to kick me right now for not updating, but this was just such a brilliant idea I couldn't pass it up. I'm actually quite proud of this one! :D

But if you're not here from that other fic, then welcome! (: I hope you enjoyed! I've been on a Crim Minds kick for about two weeks now (like I can't stop watching it, it's pathetic) so I just had to let some creative energy out with this! :D

Please leave a review! And yes, this will be continued! (:

~AnM XD


	2. Chapter 2

Her alarm goes off sharply at 4am. She sighs, leaning across her empty, queen-sized bed to shut it off, hitting the button on top with a small _click_. Silence falls around her as the ringing resonates in her head. She leans back, letting the pillows envelop her head as she closes her eyes again. Today will be her fifth day working at the BAU, and she still hasn't been on a case.

Minutes pass in this silent, isolated, peaceful world she has created, her mind reflecting the last three days. She felt outcasted by her colleagues, and she wasn't sure why. She didn't think it could be because she wasn't worthy of working there. She had been picked out of dozens of capable agents, all eager and ready to be put into the field. Yet, David Rossi had chosen her for a reason. He saw something in her that he hadn't seen in the others. What that was, she wasn't sure, and knew she probably would never know. Aaron Hotchner had agreed with Dave in choosing her after an hour-long interview that took place just last week. This occurred on her 25th birthday.

So yes, she knew it wasn't because she wasn't good enough. She had put hours and hours of hard work into her schooling and time at the academy. Now that they had finally paid off, what was the cause of this rift between her and the rest?

She finally got up, and was changing into her running clothes when a thought finally occurred to her. As she left her apartment to start her usual route around DC, she mulled over this very real possibility.

What if they didn't like that she was taking the place of someone else? Hotchner had mentioned that she would be taking the place of an agent who resigned, but he hadn't said anything else. What if the team felt like she was an intruder, someone from the outside who didn't know anything about anyone, and thought it would be okay to join this group of people who'd been through so much together? As she picked up her pace under a group of flowering trees, the idea seemed concrete in her mind.

When she returned home about 45 minutes later, she took a paper towel to her sweaty forehead and downed an entire bottle of water before checking her phone. It was exactly 5 in the morning, and she had to be at work at 8, so she set down her phone and went to get a shower.

It was still chilly out in the early hours of the morning, so the hot water felt simply amazing. She procrastinated for as long as she could, but eventually she knew she had to get out and face the day. After drying off, she went about her normal morning routine: makeup, hair, clothes, jewelry, etc. She was planning on a normal day at the office, doing various paperwork, sending emails, and frankly anything Hotchner told her to do. So, it threw her off when she checked her phone before pouring herself a bowl of cereal, and she saw a message from Garcia that she wasn't prepared to see.

**Finally got a case. Seemed a bit dead for a few days there, didn't it?**

Ginessa sighs, setting down her phone and retreating to her room to pack her suitcase.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

She arrives at the office at half past seven, as she was always early for everything. This habit started when she was in college, and realized that being late to every event in her life wasn't doing any good. She was even late for her own high school graduation. Since then, she has made it her priority to be on time, and sometimes this makes her a little early.

She arrives at her desk, setting her things down and stripping her wind-breaker. She's the first from the team to arrive, but other officials flit around, talking on cell phones, flicking through paper work. She sits and watches, eyeing everything like a profiler would. Or at least, that's what she thought she was doing.

"Are you okay?"

She's startled, and jumps around in her seat to see Spencer standing at his desk, giving her a quizzical look. The first thing she notices is that he got a haircut, his dark brown locks now styled up, rather than down.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," she says, swallowing and watching as he shakes off his coat and drapes it around the back of his chair.

"You just looked very… pained," he responds, suppressing a chuckle. "Your eyebrows were scrunched, which usual reflects that there's pain somewhere in the body in most mammals."

"Does it?" she responds, now raising an eyebrow at this unusual response.

"Yes," he says, placing both hands on his desk and leaning forward. "It happens as the body's way to-"

"Reid, don't talk the new girl to death," Agent Morgan interrupts, stalking across the office to his desk, chuckling at Spencer.

"I'm sorry," Reid blushes, pushing his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "Once I get started on a subject, it's hard for me to stop."

"Oh, we all know," Morgan jokes, flashing a brilliantly white smile. He turns to me. "You'll learn that soon enough."

"Oh," I respond, not really sure how to. I glance at the ground to avoid looking anyone in the eye.

"Why so early, Derek?" Reid questions. I glance up, watching Morgan dropping his suitcase to the ground with a _thump._

"I was hoping to find some coffee," he explains, wandering toward the break room. He looks over his shoulder at Reid and says, "My machine broke at home."

Reid nods, pulling out his chair and taking a seat. Ginessa watches, scanning her mind for a good bit of small talk to start with her young colleague. He was, after all, the one person from the team who seemed to talk to her most.

"Are you always in early, too?"

He looks up, glancing around for who she was talking to. When he realizes she's addressing him, he shrugs. "Habit, I guess."

"Me, too," she says, bringing one leg to rest on the desk. "Learned _that_ lesson in college."

"Where did you go to school?"

"Penn State," she replies, glancing down at her desk. "Go Lions."

He doesn't reply, but seems very interested in something in his bag. She takes that as a cue that he's done talking, and sits down at her own desk, mindlessly taking a pen and doodling on a piece of scratch paper.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

After being briefed in the conference room, the team boards their private jet with a flight plan headed to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. As the team gathers around the computer set up on a table, bouncing ideas off each other about the un-sub, Ginessa hangs back, taking an isolated seat on the couch next to Aaron. She speaks only a few times, but when she does, it proves to be helpful. She gets reassuring looks and smiles from Hotchner and Rossi, but the rest of the team seems so concentrated on the case they barely seem to notice her. The killer they're tracking strikes nightly, targeting young, vulnerable people under the age of 20. Both males and females have been targeted with no signs of sexual assault. Although it was proving to be difficult, she was more than happy to finally be working her first case.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A day passes with no world-shattering new evidence. She's been around the entire city of Pittsburgh with various partners, ranging from Rossi to Morgan, interviewing various people. She's spoken to the victim's families, witnesses, strangers, you name it, she's talked to them. It's not until they've reconvened at the police station does Ginessa finally pick up on something.

"What have you got, Garcia?" Aaron says, clicking the button so the bright, blonde-haired tech appears.

"Okay, I've only found one connection between all the victims. I wish I had more, but I don't," she says in a rush. "All six of them are currently enrolled as students to attend Penn State University in the fall. Some got in on scholarships, some without. Various majors, various high schools… That's all I've got."

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotchner says, sighing.

"Garcia out."

"So that seems to be the only connection?" Morgan starts. "They haven't even technically attended the school yet."

"What if the un-sub is a part of the admitting process?" Ginessa pipes up. "They would have access to their personal information."

"That makes sense," Reid agrees, walking over to the pictures of all six victims along with their records. "It seems he knows where they live, their routines, their schools."

"But colleges usually have a number of people on their admitting process. How are we supposed to know which one is our guy?" Morgan voices.

"Ginny," Reid suddenly says, making the whole team quirk their eyebrow at how he addressed her. "You said you went to Penn State, didn't you?"

"I did," she says, locking eyes with the young doctor. "Yeah I did."

"So you yourself went through the admitting process," JJ says, meeting her eyes for the first time.

"Correct," Ginessa says. "Yeah, just a few years ago."

Everyone's attention is drawn as Hotch dials his phone. "Garcia, I need the names of everyone who's associated with the admitting process at Penn State."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was eventually Ginessa's knowledge of the program that allowed them to solve the case. She had been able to tell the team what she knew about each suspect, and was reminded of a very odd one from her teenage years. It ended up that he was their un-sub.

From that moment on, the rest of the team seemed different around her. It was only her first case, and she had proven herself to be a valuable asset already. They addressed her, made eye contact with her, and even tried to make small talk with her. As they were cleaning up their space at the station, Morgan had an extensive conversation with her about hockey. As she boarded the plane, she felt more comfortable around her colleagues, and breathed a sigh of relief for the first time since she started her new job.

She took her seat on the plane in the same spot as when they had flown out, receiving a friendly nudge on the shoulder from Rossi as he passed. She settled in, watching the sun sink below the horizon as they took off. She brought out a book, and slowly immersed herself in it as the rest of the team dozed off. About a half an hour later, she was interrupted from her solitude. She was caught off guard when this happened, for she thought she was the only one awake.

"What book are you reading?"

She glances up, meeting the eyes of Spencer from across the aisle of the plane. He rubbed them as he yawned, giving her the impression that he had just woken up.

"Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows," she replies quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. "Have you read it?"

"Of course," Spencer says matter-of-factly. "A few years ago."

She nods, marking her page and closing the book.

"I thought the ending was interesting, although I saw it coming from the first book."

"Did you?" she says, smiling. "Well, I'll have to find out."

"Fiction isn't usually in my forte, but these books seemed to be different than the rest, and I had to find out what the hype was about," he explains.

"What _is_ your forte then?"

"Anything scientific really," he says, running his fingers through his newly cut hair, making it stand on end. "Anything dealing with research, new theories…"

"Interesting," she says, nodding her head slowly. "I've never been into nonfiction much."

"I grew up on nonfiction, believe it or not," he chuckles. "My mother used to read it to me as a kid…" He trails off, seemingly lost in thought. "Can I take that seat?"

He motions to the empty couch next to her.

"Yeah, of course," she says, scooting over a little bit. He stands, crossing the plane in a few strides before settling himself next to her.

"So, what do you think of the job?" he questions, clasping his hands together in his lap.

"I like it," she explains. "It's what I've worked my whole life for. It's nice to finally see it pay off."

"Yeah, there was a fuss when we were told they were bringing you in," Reid says, his dark brown eyes flashing over at her. "You were all the rage in the office."

She doesn't respond for a few minutes, deciding whether or not she was going to voice her concerns.

"It really didn't seem like I was welcome…" she says, finally opening up to the one person that she was closest with on the team. "Did I-"

"Do anything wrong?" he interjects. She nods, looking sullen. "No, not at all. It's just… this team is a family, and when change like this occurs, it throws everyone off. We were all sad to see Blake, the person you replaced, go. Don't take it personally. You'll feel more welcome soon enough. I, myself, already consider you a part of the family."

She nods, hiding a smile at this act of friendship. "Thanks, Spencer. For everything, I mean."

"For what?" he questions.

"For being nice to me, for talking to me, for making me not feel like an outcast," she rattles off, meeting his eye and not looking away. "For calling me Ginny."

"You told me to call you Ginny," he admits, the eye contact still not broken.

"I know," she replies, smiling. "That's why I'm thanking you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hello all!

So yeah, I changed the name of the story because it was too generic. I realized there were dozens of stories with the name "A Fresh Start" Yikes!

So how did you like her first case?! Please leave a review, it would mean the world to me! (:

~AnM XD


	3. Chapter 3

"Does it ever get confusing? Having a boy's last name, I mean. Does anyone ever get thrown when they hear 'Agent James,' and get you?"

Ginny laughs softly at her colleague's question, sitting back in her chair before answering, "Sometimes."

They are on the jet home from Austin, Texas. A week had passed since the Pittsburgh case, and solving another had really boosted Ginessa's confidence in her work with the BAU. She and Spencer had taken a seat together when they took off from the Austin-Bergstrom International Airport a few hours ago. Since then, the two seemed to have forgotten that the rest of the team was on the plane, and were totally invested in the conversation they were having with each other.

"Only sometimes?" Reid responds, breaking a smile for what seemed like the thousandth time that evening. "I mean-"

"Reid," someone suddenly calls. Reid twists around in his seat, looking for the source of the voice seeking his attention; he notices Morgan watching him with a sly smirk on his face from the opposite end of the plane.

"One second," Reid blushes, holding up his index finger. He gets up and relocates himself in the seat across from Derek, passing Hotch and JJ along the way, and receiving skeptical looks from both of them. "What's up?"

"What are you doing, man?" Morgan asks in an undertone.

"What do you mean?" Reid responds, honestly befuddled by this vague question.

"I mean giving the new girl all your attention," Morgan explains, and Reid blushes. "Don't think you can hide it from me, kid. I know you too well."

"Morgan, she was feeling out of place," he explains hastily in an undertone as well. "We didn't give her the warmest welcome, you know that. We were all too shocked by Blake's sudden resignation to actually give her the attention she needed."

"I can see that, but-"

"Morgan, I'm just trying to be friendly. No one else is doing the job, so I took it upon myself to-"

"To goggle at her for hours on end?"

Reid blushes even more deeply, and swallows hard before answering.

"I do not-"

"Kid," Morgan interjects, chuckling. "I wish someone would take a picture of your face anytime you two are talking. You would be amazed."

"So what? Yeah, she's pretty. So is JJ, but you don't accuse me of goggling at her."

"Woah, calm down. I'm not accusing you of anything. Kid, I'm messing with you! Why are you so high-strung?" Morgan says, the sly, mischievous smile still not void of his face. Reid takes a shaky, deep breath, calming himself down.

"I don't know. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Don't feel uncomfortable," Derek says, reaching out and playfully punching him in the shoulder. "Now, Tiger, go get her."

"Shh, Morgan. I'm not supposed… I can't-"

"Yeah, Johnson can't yell at you for harmless flirting after what happened with Rossi and Strauss," Derek chuckles. Reid considers this, running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just don't… like being taunted… about stuff like this. You know that."

"I don't think you've forgiven me about that Lila comment yet."

"Exactly," Reid says, glancing over his shoulder at the girl who was waiting for his return. "Look, Morgan. I'm just trying to be friendly and welcoming. Nothing else. Okay?"

"Whatever you say, kid," Derek replies, the knowing grin spreading across his face. "I would wait until your blushing goes away to go back over there though."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A relaxing Sunday night was what she needed, and badly. Ginessa cleared her schedule for the Sunday after her third week of work with the BAU, bought herself a bottle of wine, and rented some of her favorite chick flicks from Red Box. After settling down on the couch in her tiny apartment with her first glass of wine, the phone rings. Grumbling under her breath about being disturbed, she sets down the glass and picks it up on the fifth ring.

"Agent James."

"Ginessa, darling, how are you?"

"Mom?" Ginessa replies, sinking into a chair at her counter in shock. She fumbles over her words before answering. "How… how are you?"

"I'm fine, dear," she replies. "I was calling to see how your new job was going."

"It's going great, Mom," she replies, retrieving her glass of wine before returning to her seat. "Mom, what number did you call me from?"

"Oh, from Daddy's," she explains, sounding delighted as could be. Ginessa quirks her eyebrow at this, knowing her father hadn't had a working phone in years.

"And it still works?" she questions, tapping one of her rings on the counter in an effort not to get too frustrated.

"Of course, he gave it to me this morning," her mother answers. Ginessa sighs, running her hand down her face and choking back tears.

"Okay, Mom, I need you to promise me something."

"Anything dear."

"When you get off the phone with me, I want you to call Dr. Harrison and leave a voicemail for him. Mom, I think it's time we make a visit to his facility again."

"But why, dear?" her mother's voice cracks on the other end of the phone. "I'm feeling fine."

"Mom, you promised me," Ginny argues. Her mother sighs.

"Whatever you say, Ginessa. Whatever you think is best."

"Thank you, Mom," she replies. "Look, I've gotta go, okay? I love you, so much, Mom. I'll see if I can make a visit sometime this week."

"I love you, too, Ginessa. Goodbye."

There is a click and sound of disconnection from the other line. Ginessa lets the tears come now, the salty liquid running down her cheeks. She picks up her phone again and dials a different number.

"Dr. Harrison? Hello, this is Ginessa James, Kimberly James's daughter. I'm calling because… I think the Alzheimer's is back. She just called me from my Dad's old number, and you know he's been dead for years. She also told me that he had given her the phone this morning," she says in a rush. She then takes a break and lets a sob out before collecting herself and continuing. "The treatment must've stopped working. I don't know what you'll do about it, but I told her she might need to be admitted again. I had her call you, just so you could get an idea of how bad it is, and to make sure I'm not overreacting… Okay, that's it. Please call me once you get this message. Thank you, Dr. Harrison. Bye."

With that, she hangs up and brings her hands to hide her face while she weeps, desperately yearning for a source of comfort.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, Reid arrives early as always, sitting at his cubicle, sipping green tea, and getting organized for the day ahead. It isn't until around 7:45 that he notices something is different about this morning, yet he doesn't know what. As the team starts filing in, droopy eyed and dragging their feet, he notices they're one short. The one other person that always arrives early is tardy this morning.

"Morgan," Reid says, entering his friend's office with a quirked eyebrow. "Have you seen Ginny this morning?"

"No, but I thought you would've," Morgan jokes. "And do you realize you're still the only one who calls her Ginny?"

Reid chooses to ignore this comment and moves on. "She usually gets here around the same time I do."

"And she wasn't this morning?"

"No," Reid replies, biting his lip. "This is unlike-"

"She just signed in in the lobby," Morgan interjects, eyes watching his computer. "She's okay, Reid."

"Just because she's here doesn't mean she's okay," Spencer replies, sweeping from the office and returning to his cubicle. Several minutes later, a very ruffled Ginessa walks in, setting down her things and removing a windbreaker before sitting. Her hair is hastily thrown into a ponytail, and her face seems void of much make-up. "Ginny," she jumps at the sound of her name. "Are you okay?"

She takes a moment to collect herself before rubbing the back of her neck and replying, "Yeah, just a rough morning, I guess."

"Oh," Reid replies, blushing because of his overreaction. "I was just checking."

She doesn't reply, but watches him work for a few moments before gathering the courage to ask what she knows she needs to. "Actually… can I talk to you for a sec?"

Reid is flustered by this sudden proposal. "Yeah, of course."

With that, the two Supervisory Special Agents get up and retreat to the break room, far from the prying eyes and ears of the others. She takes a seat at the table, putting her head in her hands, and closing her eyes tight.

"Can I get you anything?" Reid asks.

"Water, please," she replies, and soon sees a cold bottle covered in sweat before her. "Thanks," she says hastily before taking it and downing half in one gulp.

"What do you need to talk about?" Reid asks after she's swallowed her fill. She takes a moment to answer again, looking anywhere but at him.

"Spencer, you're my only real friend here," she starts. "I don't have anyone else to talk to about this, and-"

"You can always come to me for anything," he interjects, causing her to look up at him and for them to meet eyes. "You don't have to explain, I already know we're friends."

She smiles into her lap at his comment before continuing, his presence already cheering her up. She takes a deep breath in, and continues to avert his eyes. "My mother's Alzheimer's relapsed last night. She called me, claiming my father, who's been dead for seven years, had given her his phone. She sounded so confused, yet so happy at the same time. It was the scariest thing since she's been diagnosed."

She breaks into tears, brining a tissue out of her pocket.

"It's been really severe before, but never this bad. Never so bad that she's hallucinated that my dad was alive. I couldn't bear to hear her on the phone, so helpless, so confused. I called her doctor, and he called me back this morning saying someone had already been over and transported her to his facility, where he can take care of her before shipping her off to an assisted living home. I know this time, it'll probably be for good. But, she wouldn't want that. She wouldn't want to have to be cooped up there for the rest of her life. She hates it there. I'm just so scared, Spencer. I'm so scared."

With that, the tears become too much, and she breaks down into sobs, the tissue immediately too wet to be functional anymore. Spencer reaches across the table and does something he's never done before, but grabs her hand and holds it to comfort her. After several minutes of calming cooing from Spencer, she's calmed down enough to have his voice be heard.

"I can kind of understand what you're going through," he starts. She looks up at him with red, puffy eyes, curious. "My mother has schizophrenia, and has had it for as long as I can remember."

"Oh my God," Ginessa breathes. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he replies, shrugging. "It's something you get used to, as weird as that sounds. She's been living in an institution since I had her placed there when I was eighteen, for her own safety of course. I still feel regret about it sometimes."

"I can understand," she replies, wiping a tear away with her free hand. "Is she doing… okay?"

"Okay is the right word," he says, eyes drifting to the table subconsciously. "I haven't seen her in a while."

Ginessa doesn't answer, but let's her colleague sit with his pain.

"So, yeah, I guess you could say I know how you feel when you can't control your own mother. It's a horrible feeling, knowing there's nothing you can do to make things better."

"Exactly," she chokes out, a new round of tears spilling over and down her cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer."

"You're welcome, Ginny. And please, you can talk to me anytime about this."

He stands and offers a hand to help her stand as well. She shakily straightens up, using Spencer's hand for balance. Without warning, she's thrown her arms around his neck, and laid her head against his chest. He's completely shocked by this, and doesn't react immediately. He hesitantly lays one hand on her back, and the other on the back of her head, holding her close to him while she cries. He doesn't think anyone notices this, but then again, how can you hide something like this from a team of world-class profilers?

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

What's up, guys? Hope you liked the chapter! ^.^

I don't have much to say today! Sorry for the delay, I guess! (:

Please leave a review! :D Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, followed, etc! You all rock! (:

~AnM XD


	4. Chapter 4

Another week passes before Reid hears anything more on Ginny's mother. It's a dreary Monday morning, with rain pattering the windows, when he notices something off in her behavior for the second time since they've met. She slinks in, again trying to hide the fact that she had gotten ready in a rush and not paid much attention to her appearance. After watching her silently settling herself at her desk, Reid decides to break the ice for the first time in his life.

"Good morning, Ginny," he says nonchalantly, sipping his tea. She glances over her shoulder at him, sighing.

"Good morning, Spencer."

He is taken aback by her clipped and forlorn tone. "Is everything okay?"

She takes a deep breath before responding. "Why wouldn't everything be?"

"Well, first for the fact that you told me your mother had been admitted to a mental facility last week on the verge of an Alzheimer's relapse. Second, you admitted this to me while sobbing uncontrollably, and claiming that you didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. And thirdly, your body language this morning has put me on guard. You're stiff, cold, unwilling to talk. Something's obviously wrong."

She gives an exasperated smile before swiveling her chair to face him. "You're good."

"That's the beauty of having an eidetic memory."

She snorts, leaning one elbow on her desk. "And it doesn't help that you're one of the BAU's most valued profilers, does it?"

"I suppose not," Reid replies, uncomfortably adjusting his sweater at her compliment. She again takes a moment to respond.

"If you must know, she called me this morning completely distraught, confused… even scared. She said that she didn't like it there, and didn't know why people were watching her at all times…"

She trails off, lost in thought.

"It's scary, not being able to help your own mother. And honestly, this couldn't have come at a worse time with me starting this new job."

"You just need to relax," Spencer says, and her head snaps in his direction curiously.

"And how do you suggest I do that, Doctor?" she smiles.

"Well, to relax, I usually play chess or read. I know it's different for everyone though."

She chuckles, sinking back into her chair. "Have you ever tried taking a bath, or lounging on the couch with some wine to unwind?"

"Can't say I have," he admits.

"You should try it sometime."

At this point, the conversation seems final, and Reid takes this as a cue to stop talking. He readjusts himself at his desk and turns to his computer, gritting his teeth and bearing the huge pile of files stacked on the edge of his desk.

"Spencer, can I ask you something?"

He whips his head up at her, surprised to see her continuing the conversation.

"Yeah, anything."

"Who… who was that girl in the picture frame that I broke a few weeks ago?"

Reid feels his heart slowly break and the familiar pain in his chest return. He swallows, trying to choose his words carefully. She obviously notices his discomfort, and follows her question with, "I-I'm sorry if it's not something you like to talk about…"

"No, no, it's fine," he assures her. He sighs, reaching for his bag and producing the picture that he failed to frame again. He hands it across their two desks. "This is Maeve."

She takes the photo, looking down into the happy, smiling face of Reid's first love. She breaks a smile before looking back up at him. "And who is Maeve?"

He again chooses his answer carefully. "She was…" He considers sugar-coating his answer, yet there's something about the kind sparkle in Ginny's eye that tells him she's one he can trust. He takes a deep breath before taking the plunge. "She was the first, and only, love of my life… She was murdered seven months and a week ago by the woman who stalked her."

Ginessa looks back blankly at her colleague, completely and utterly shocked by his answer. "Oh, my God. I am so, so sorry."

"The pain has mostly passed," he explains, taking the picture back. He stares down into her face as he continues. "I only got to lay eyes on her once, of course. Before that, it was all through letters and phone calls. The night I finally saw her in person was the night she was killed."

"Spencer," Ginny starts, her heart breaking. "That's horrible. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's okay," he admits, sighing. He slips the picture back into his bag before continuing. "I try to remember the good about her. Only the good."

"That's the right way of thinking about it," she nods, watching his body language shift to be more comfortable as he looks up at her.

"Thanks," he blushes, the corners of both their lips turning upward. "For asking, I mean."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day, they are swept off to Buffalo, New York. Six bodies of young, troublesome, teenage boys had been discovered in a residential area, all with gunshot wounds to their hands, arms, feet, legs, torso, and forehead. Local police hadn't called in the BAU until now because it had taken them that long to realize there was a pattern to the killings.

On the plane, Hotch doesn't even take notice in the proceedings of the rest of the team. They continue their usual brain storming session, with Garcia on video chat next to them, while Hotch talks quietly, quickly, and sternly into his cell phone. He's obviously very distraught by the fact that it had taken this long for the team to be called in, and was making sure the sheriff knew that. Just as they're about to land, he finally hangs up.

"That must've been rough," Morgan comments, chuckling as Hotch slips his phone into his pocket.

"Very," he agrees, making a face. "He kept assuring me that he didn't even think they needed us _now_, but that his lieutenants kept badgering him to give us a call."

"Good thing they did," Morgan scoffs. "If not, who knows how long this could've gone on."

After disembarking the plane, they travel to the police station after a quick stop at the hotel. They set up shop, talk with some of the officers, and begin to work their magic.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_This was proving to be the most difficult case yet_, Ginessa thinks drearily as she wakes up on day five of being in Buffalo. They had few leads, and fewer ideas. They could find no connection, no unifying factor, or anything between the six boys. What made it worse was that there were no new bodies discovered, either. The one thing they learned, though, was that this had been going on for several years. Looks like the sheriff had forgotten to mention that on the phone.

This piece of information was surely a game-changer. This let the team know that the un-sub had an extensive cooling off period, and seemed to be very in-control. Besides that small bit of information, their profile was almost empty, except for the fact that they knew the un-sub enjoyed torturing their victims. For what purpose, they still had yet to find out.

After getting dressed, Ginessa gathers her things, quietly grumbling to herself about having to be ready so early. If she had been at this hotel for pleasure, she would have gone down to breakfast in her pajama's without a thought. She reckoned Hotch wouldn't appreciate it if she showed up in a sports bra and shorts, though. After a final glance around the room, she opens the door behind her back and slides right through, knocking into something very solid without even looking.

"Oh my God! I am _so_ sorry!" she yelps, whipping around to see who she knocked to the ground. The soft, warm, deep, brown eyes of Spencer Reid look up at her from the floor, a chuckle glinting in them.

"Don't worry about it, Ginny," he says nonchalantly, standing and brushing himself off.

"I feel terrible!" she breathes, kicking herself for letting this happen and scrambling to help pick up his things. "I should've been more aware of-"

"Ginny!" he cuts her off, smiling. "It's no big deal. We're all exhausted, not in the right mind-set. I understand."

She sighs, breaking a smile at her colleague's response to being knocked to the floor. She hands him his bag and notebook as she says, "I'm just such a klutz."

"I've noticed," he says, shouldering his bag. "You headed to breakfast?"

"Yeah," she admits, the blushing still not gone from her face.

"Great. Me, too," he says, and motions for her to lead the way. "I was actually about to come and get you. That's why I was right outside your door."

"Come to get me?" she questions, glancing over curiously at him. "Why?"

"Hotch wanted us all to meet for breakfast," he explains, shrugging. "You weren't there, so I volunteered to come get you."

"Damn, was I late?" she asks, disappointment welling inside her.

"I think everyone else was just early," he jokes, catching her eye and smiling. They reach the elevator, and stand before it, waiting for another to arrive. They lapse into silence, just existing next to one another.

After entering the elevator, both profilers reach to hit the appropriate button. At this moment, their hands collide in mid-air, but in a violent way. More in a casual, meek, tentative way, skin brushing against skin in an effort to get where they needed to be.

"Sorry," Spencer mumbles, withdrawing his hand and blushing. Her skin had been so soft and delicate, like the inside of a flower petal. He suddenly has a craving to touch it again, just so he can remember what it felt like. What a curious emotion is boiling inside him… causing him to… crave… contact with another human being.

"Sorry," Ginny mumbles at the same time, hitting the button then slowly retracting her hand. Had she imagined the electric spark that had occurred between them? Or was it a tangible, real thing? Was she crazy to admit that his hand had radiated a sense of comfort, a sense of security? She brushes this silly thought off, the red pulsing in her cheeks. She looks at her feet, pretending to be adjusting the position of her foot in her shiny, black heels.

When they finally arrive at ground level, the two leave the elevator and proceed to breakfast. Yet, they couldn't pretend that nothing had happened between them, for neither could keep the scarlet from their faces.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Another three days pass before they finally solve the case. In all of Spencer's years with the BAU, he had never seen anything so bizarre.

Judy Westington, an eighty year-old grandmother of twelve, turned out to be their un-sub. The missing puzzle piece had been that all six boys had dated Judy's granddaughters, and apparently not treated any of them well. Judy would get the boys alone by asking to talk with them, and when you're a teenage boy and your girlfriend's grandmother asks to talk, you can't say no. There, she subdued them by putting something in their tea, and tied them up before reviving them. At that time, she would start by shooting them in their hands and feet, slowly work her way up their body in punishment for mistreating her granddaughter. Twisted, sick, and sad were three very good adjectives to describe it.

After receiving Judy's address from Garcia, they all pile into SUVs and rush over, sirens blaring. Ginessa sits next to a very on-edge Rossi, driving a bit recklessly to say the least. He sits stiff, eyes glancing around nervously as he follows Hotch and Morgan.

"Are you okay?" Ginessa asks, almost unnerved by his behavior. Rossi sighs.

"I just know she's not going to go down without a fight."

This seems ominous to Ginessa, and she chooses not to respond, swallowing nervously.

When they arrive at the address, they pull onto a country lane leading back to a very large, beautiful estate surrounded by a quaint farm. It was the ideal setting for an aging grandmother, but not for vicious, mindless murder. S.W.A.T. teams surround the house before the BAU approaches their predetermined entrance points; Hotch, Morgan, and Reid take the front, and Rossi, JJ, and Ginessa take the back. On Morgan's count of three, JJ kicks the door open, and the trio enter the house, guns aloft in front of them.

They find Mrs. Westington in her kitchen, startled by all the commotion. The two teams meet up here, and corner the old woman in her own home. She shrieks about this being a mistake, an invasion of property, and threatens to get them all arrested if they didn't leave her alone at that instant. Hotch cuts off her meaningless banter by giving her an ultimatum.

"Judy, cooperate and this can be much easier. We don't want to hurt you. Your trial will be much easier if you don't have to testify that you resisted arrest."

"What are you talking about?!" she screeches. "I did _not_ commit such acts as you're implying. I am a quiet, old woman for God's sake!"

She breaks down into tears, sinking to the floor and burying her face into the cabinet behind her. With this, Hotch nods that's it's time to go in, and Ginessa leads the team to surround Mrs. Westington. This turns out to be their fatal mistake.

Just as Ginessa is about to cuff Judy, the old woman turns around with incredible speed, brandishing some small, black object that Ginessa cannot make out. She soon realizes what it is after hearing the sound of gunshot and feeling an indescribable tingle in her ankle. She falls to the floor, pain coursing up her leg and into her lower torso. She screams out, writhing on the floor as more shots are fired and people shout. She lays with her agony for a few minutes, unsure of what's going on. Suddenly, a face swims into view above her.

"Ginny!" it screams, and she immediately knows it's Spencer, for he's the only one who calls her that. "I need a medic over here! Ginny, stay with me, stay with me. Can you hear me? Are you there?"

"Hey, where's that medic?!" Morgan's voice calls from somewhere distant. She hears the shuffling of feet and furniture, and suddenly there's a team of people swarming her. The only thing that she can remember before blacking out, is the hand that brings comfort and security tightly gripping hers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hi guys, long time no see! Sorry, I've been incredibly busy! :/

How did you guys like this one? (:

Please leave a review! :D

~AnM XD


	5. Chapter 5

"Ginny! I'm right here, don't worry! I'm right behind you!" Spencer calls out, awkwardly running after the gurney the medics had strapped her to. "I won't leave you, it's okay!"

"Reid!" Hotch calls, causing the young doctor to skid to a stop and look back at his supervisor. Hotch has an expression on his face paralleled to any time a member of the team was in trouble, which surprised Reid because Ginny was still relatively new.

"Sir?" he responds, desperate to get back to her side.

"Do you plan on riding with Agent James?" Hotch asks, his eyes glancing over Reid's shoulder at the medics loading her into the ambulance.

"I would love to, sir," he answers, short and sweet. "I think she needs someone familiar to-"

"Go."

"What?"

"Just go. I understand," Hotch replies, his hawk-like eyes boring into Reid's soft brown ones. "We'll be at the police station until we hear more. Give me a call when you know more."

"Thank you," Reid mutters this quick expression of gratitude before tearing off across the uneven lawn again, just in time to let the medics know he was going to accompany her. He scrambles in and sits down, immediately retaking her hand. "Ginny, can you hear me? I'm right here, don't worry."

Hotch watches this exchange from afar and can only think that that was what he and Haley would've looked like in such a situation; he scrambling behind just to be with her, and making sure she was fully aware that he hadn't left her, and would never. He sighs, this thought pulling on his heartstrings before he hears a voice behind him.

"Watching lover boy and his girl?"

He glances over his shoulder at Derek approaching, and sighs. "Lover boy?"

"Hotch, you know he's into her."

He chuckles, glancing over at him. "I had my suspicions."

"Isn't it great though?" Morgan muses as the lights flicker on and siren starts to blare. "He found a way to move on."

"Think so?"

"I know so," Morgan says wisely. "I asked him the other day about her. He got all flustered and defensive."

"Do you think he has a chance?" Hotch asks, tearing his eyes away from the vehicle retreating into the woods. Morgan takes a moment to think about his answer before he speaks again.

"In another life. With another career."

"I don't know her very well yet, but from what I can gather so far, she's not one to give up on something she wants."

"Oh no, Hotch. I agree she's into him, too," Morgan explains. "But we can't forget that fickle little 'no relationships between agents' rule."

"If it will help him get over Maeve, I don't object to it," Hotch says, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the team standing idle around some cop cars in the distance, looking worried.

"You're not who I'm worried about."

"Johnson?" Hotch determines, cussing inside his head.

"Exactly," Morgan sighs, digging his hands into his pockets. "We don't have anything to worry about right now. They're not even 'together.' It's just something we should keep an eye on."

"Agreed," Hotch concludes before turning around and crossing the lawn to have a conversation with Mrs. Westington.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the ambulance speeds through the forest, the small, winding, dirt path brings nothing but discomfort for himself, Ginny, and the two medics inside.

"Blood pressure is dropping," one mutters to the other, and their already fast pace picks up a few notches.

"Is she okay?" Reid blurts out, unable to hold his tongue any longer.

"Just loosing a lot of blood," the medic with blond, spiky hair replies. "The bullet went right through her posterior tibial artery, and shattered a few bones."

"That's why she's loosing so much blood," the other, who has dark brown hair, chimes in.

Reid nods, understanding their concern. His only wish is for the ambulance to arrive at the hospital so that he wouldn't have to see her like this anymore; unconscious, yet still in so much pain. The way her lifeless body would sporadically writhe against the restraints made his heart ache, and he had to look away.

"She your girlfriend?" the blonde one asks, smirking his way. Reid is taken aback by the question.

"What?" he stutters. "No! No, not at all. She's a member of my team."

"It's okay, buddy," the medic says, nodding in understanding, yet still bearing the mischievous smirk of knowing. "I understand."

Reid isn't convinced that this man believes him, yet decides to let the conversation drop nonetheless. He settles back into his seat, his eyes not leaving Ginny's pale face.

The ambulance arrives at the hospital after a very awkward, very nerve-wracking forty minutes, blaring its siren loudly. A nurse wrenches open the back doors and helps the brown haired-medic pull Ginny's gurney out and onto the pavement, where they take off running through the automatic, sliding-glass doors. Reid stumbles along, following the blond medic and listening intently to their conversation.

"She's lost a lot of blood," one medic murmurs in an undertone. "Blood pressure is very low, heart rate is very high."

"She'll need surgery to repair that ankle. I can already tell."

"Where's the doctor?"

"He's waiting in the examination room."

"Wow, that's unusual."

"Well, she _is_ a federal agent after all."

The nurse glances over his shoulder at Reid.

"Who's he?"

"A member of her team," the medic replies, taking a sharp turn down another hallway. "He came along for moral support."

They suddenly turn and push the gurney into a bay area, where indeed a doctor is waiting. Nurses start buzzing around her like flies, starting an IV, removing the straps restricting her, and taking vitals. The doctor hovers around her ankle, examining the damage with his assistant breathing down his neck. Reid awkwardly stands trapped in the corner, watching all this with wide eyes.

"Okay, let's get her prepped for surgery," the doctors suddenly announces, and the room's energy changes. Nurses start different tasks, and they change her into a gown before suddenly starting to roll her out of the room.

"Wait!" Reid calls, causing some to notice his presence for the first time. "Can I say goodbye to her?"

The nurses look to the doctor for an answer. "Very well. Make it quick. Time is of the essence."

Reid timidly walks to the head of the gurney, leaning down to whisper in her ear while taking her hand for the last time on this journey.

"Ginny, be strong. I'll be waiting for you when you come out. I'll be right there. Don't be afraid, it's going to be alright. They'll take good care of you. Be strong."

With a final squeeze of her hand, he moves his lips to her cheek and places a single kiss there, lingering a few seconds longer than he should've. With that he straightens up and watches as the activity in the room begins again, and the fly-like nurses buzz away with Ginny, the doctor following behind. His eyes follow them for as long as he can, but at the end of the hallway, they rush through a door and out of sight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Yeah, she's alright. I don't know. She went in for surgery about ten minutes ago. No, she didn't wake up. No, I haven't talked to her… Yes, I would love it if you guys came. I'm sure she would, too. Thanks. I'll see you soon."

Reid hangs up on Hotch's phone call, and shifts his weight to replace his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. He sighs heavily and sits back in the uncomfortable chair he'd been placed in in the waiting room. To pass time, he watches families of trauma victims suffer, and wishes there was something he could do to help them. Yet, he knew that they saw him as just the same: a family member of a trauma victim. For Spencer Reid hadn't been able to suppress the tears this time, as he often did. It just didn't work for him this time, and they had come spilling over his cheeks as sobs wracked his body in front of a room full of strangers. It was the first time he'd done something like that, yet he wasn't mad that he had. It was human nature. It just happened.

He wipes the remains of tears left on his cheeks away and stands up, looking for some coffee. He spots it across the room and starts over that way, hoping it will put some pep in his step. Before he even makes it halfway, he's stopped by a tugging on his cardigan that makes him turn around. He looks down into the bright blue eyes of a little blonde girl, gazing curiously up at him.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her voice as bright and clear as the tinkle of a little bell. Reid smiles in spite of himself and kneels to her level.

"A good friend of mine is very sick. I'm very worried about her," he explains in terms that she would understand.

"Don't worry, mister," the girl replies, very self-sure. "She's in a hospital. They'll take good care of her. She'll be okay."

Another tear escapes Reid's watering eyes. He wipes it with the heel of his hand before smiling very widely and responding, "Thank you very much. You've made me feel a lot better."

"You're welcome," she giggles. "I just didn't like seeing you cry."

With that, she skips off, her pink floral dress flying behind her. Reid straightens up, watching her retreat to her mother across the room. For the first time since the shot had been fired, he felt alright.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey kid," a voice breaks into his consciousness. Apparently, Reid had fallen asleep curled up in his uncomfortable plastic chair. He jumps at this voice, and looks wildly around for the source before his eyes land on Morgan and the rest of the team.

"When did you guys get here?" he exclaims, surprised. He jumps out of his chair and straightens his cardigan.

"Just now," Hotch explains. "Looks like you've been here a little too long."

"No," Reid waves this comment off. "I'm fine, Hotch."

"You need to go back to the hotel and rest, Reid," Hotch argues. "You look like walking death."

"No," Reid pleads. "No, I want to be here when she wakes up."

A silence falls over the whole team as they stand and watch a very bedraggled Spencer run his hands through his hair and sigh. "I promised her I would."

No one responds.

"Go ahead," he says, swallowing. "Laugh at me. Get it out."

"Spence-" JJ starts.

"_Yes_. I like her. I do. I _really_ do. Now that that's been established, can we not send me away?"

"Why would we laugh?" Rossi pipes up.

"I don't know…" Spencer trails off. "Because…"

"See? There's no reason for us to laugh. Now stop being so embarrassed about it, and just let it be," Derek interrupts. "I'm happy for you, kid."

Reid suppresses a smile. "Uh… Thanks."

"You're welcome," he replies, flashing his pearly whites at his younger colleague. "Now, if you're not going back to the hotel, at least get some rest here. Go sit your ass down, lover boy."

Reid gives him an annoyed look before following his orders. With a final glance at his team's excited faces, he rests his head on the wall behind him and closes his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Reid," someone calls, ending his nap sooner than he would've liked. "Reid we can go see her now. Wake up."

He sits up, rubbing his eyes and looking around blearily.

"Come on," Hotch says, grabbing his arm and helping him stand up. "I'm sure she wants to see you."

"She's awake?" he mumbles, still half-asleep. The only thing keeping him from tumbling to the ground and restarting his nap is Hotch's grip on his forearm.

"Yes, and I'm sure very confused," he explains. "Come on, let's go."

Reid suddenly perks up and uses his own two legs to follow Hotch and the rest of the team out of the waiting room and down the long hallway leading to the recovery suite led by the doctor.

"Everything went marvelous," he explains to Hotch. "We repaired the artery that had been torn open by the bullet and did some reconstruction of the bone. Other than that, she's in excellent condition. A little woozy from the amnesia, nonetheless."

He pushes open a set of swinging doors and leads the team past dozens of beds filled with people in recovery from various surgeries, some surrounded by family and friends, others totally alone. Ginny's bed is about halfway down the ward and surrounded by curtains.

"She'll be in there," the doctor says, pointing. "Let me know when you're finished."

"When will she be released?" Hotch asks, catching the doctor just as he's about to rush off to another patient.

"Maybe tomorrow, depending on how she's doing," he explains. "She'll just need a cast and some physical therapy to get her back into top condition. Now, if you'll excuse me."

He rushes off down the ward. The five team members stand idly, waiting for another to make the first move. Since no one was taking the initiative, Reid boldly steps forward and pulls back the curtain. Inside, her bed is cast in a shadow, and she lays so still in it that she could've been a statue. Machines surround the bed like sleeping giants, some beeping, others silent. There's an oxygen tube under her nose, an IV in her hand, and a pulse-ox on her right pointer finger. Her ankle pokes out from under the blankets, heavily bandaged and splinted. Her hair surrounds her head like a fan, black make-up running down her face.

"Spencer?" she calls out, her voice weak. He immediately rushes to her bedside, taking the only chair available and reclaiming her hand in his.

"Ginny," he says, desperately searching her face. "You're okay."

"Yeah," she smiles, looking up at him through her lashes. "I'm okay."

"I was so worried," he admits, nervously looking down into his lap. She reaches out and regains his eye contact by lifting his chin.

"I know you were," she says, still smiling as broadly as ever. "I heard you."

"You could hear me?" he asks in disbelief.

"Of course," she says, shaking her head. "It was lovely what you had to say."

He blushes, his smile breaking again. "Thanks."

"No," she says, squeezing his hand. "Thank _you_, Spencer."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Hey guys! Sorry for my absence, I GOT A JOB! AHH! I've just been really busy, SO sorry about that! :'(

I really hope you liked it! I like this one! (:

Have a lovely evening, and PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! :D

~AnM XD


End file.
